Someday
by wowiepanzeeee
Summary: "Let's agree we'd be shitty dads," Richie smirked, laughing a little. Eddie smiled in response. "We'd honestly be pretty pathetic. You'd be such a trashmouth around your kids, they'd be cussing by age 2!" Richie laughed loudly, "Your wife would end up raising the kid because you'd be afraid of the poop!" "Even though you're right, fuck you!" "Fuck yooouuuuuuu!"


Heyo!

I was rushed with this fic because I wanted to finish it fast, but I think it turned out pretty well!

We need more parents!reddie on ao3.

Just a warning, the word qu*** is in here a few times.

Also, I'm 21 so describing their appearances as kids feels a little awkward so it doesn't get super detailed and stuff.

ENJOY!

* * *

The Losers sat quietly in the clubhouse, each doing their own activities while enjoying each others' presence.

Ben jotted down poem ideas in his school notebook, no doubt inspired by the vibrant, fiery girl that sat a few feet away. Beverly concentrated on her nails, which she was painting a light blue, resembling the shade of her overalls. Her aunt had bought the polish, not taking into account the redhead's tomboyish personality. However, Bev was curious and found a thrill in quietly painting her nails. She stretched and wiggled her fingers, admiring her handiwork.

"Hey," she lightly elbowed Ben, causing the boy to nearly gasp at the contact. "What do you think?"

"I-It's re-"

"It smells so bad, Bev," Stanley said, looking up from his book on tropical birds; a recent upgrade from his book on local birds. "I feel like my eyes are getting cancer." He fanned his face with the book, trying to get rid of the smell.

"Your eyes are going to get cancer?" Bev chuckled as she blew on her nails, speeding up the drying process. "You're right though. It is pretty smelly. Next time, I'll paint outside so we can all avoid eye cancer." She quietly laughed; the sound taking Ben's breath away, as if he had any more breath for her to take away.

Eddie sat in the corner, his face scrunched tightly. He took a deep breath and looked up from his textbook. "Okay, I was going to stay quiet, but-"

"Then stay quiet," Stan interjected, with no real malice behind the words.

"Fuck off," Eddie bitterly responded. "Eye cancer's a real thing, so if you're just going to joke about it, maybe apologize to all the people who have no more eyeballs. If they saw how disrespectful you ar-"

Beverly grinned, quickly interjecting, "Eddie, hon, they can't see how disrespectful we are if they don't have eyeballs."

Eddie's face turned red as every loser began to laugh.

Even Mike, who tended to stay quiet when Losers bickered, was wiping tears from his face, unable to stop his laughter. "Sorry, Eddie, it's just so - so -" He broke into laughter again, trying to apologize, but failing horribly.

"You guys are such fucking dicks!" Eddie threw his pencil across at Mike, hitting him square in the forehead.

Everyone began to laugh harder, their attention now focused on Mike as he rubbed his forehead. "Damn man, your aim is pretty good."

"Sup, fuckers!" Sunlight shone into the clubhouse as someone opened the hatch and tossed their backpack down before hopping in themselves, ignoring the ladder.

"H-H-Hey Richie!" Bill was still chuckling over his words, "D-D-Did you know h-how good Eddie is a-a-at throwing sh-shit? He ju-just smacked M-Mike square in th-the forehead!" Bill stepped toward Mike and crouched down to face level. "Y-You okay dude?"

Mike still looked stunned, but was grinning from ear to ear, still wiping tears away. "Yeah, thanks man. Help me up?" Bill grabbed his hand and tried his best to pull up the bigger boy, but ultimately was no help and Mike just stood up on his own. He let out a huff and smiled, looking to Bill, "Thanks."

Neither realized they held hands for a few seconds too long, but Stanley did, and smiled as he filed it away in his mental notebook. "Eddie, maybe you should sign up for baseball," he said, half serious.

"Are you kidding? My mom would never let me do that." Eddie rolled his eyes. "Even though the inhaler was just a gazeb- PLACEBO!"

The Losers laughed again, still hurting from the first laugh attack. "Aww, but imagine our little Eds in a baseball uniform! He could show off his cute booty!" Richie grinned as he drummed on his own buttcheeks.

Stan and Bev both yelled, "BEEP BEEP!" while Eddie shrieked.

"NO WAY IM SHOWING OFF MY BUTT, MAN! A-AND MY BUTTS NOT CUTE! IT'S MUSCULAR AND, AND, AND MANLY!" Eddie quickly became a blushing, stuttering mess.

Beverly stood up, checking if her nails were dry before throwing her backpack over her shoulder. "I've known you for three years, and I still can't believe the trash that pours out that trashmouth."

Richie grinned at her, proud that his friends still found him funny after all this time. "Ah, princess Bevahlee," he curtsied to her, "I, Sir Trashmouth, am here fo yo entertahnment!"

She began chuckling again, curtsying back. "What accent is that, Sir Trashmouth? It's awful lovely."

"No, it's just plain awful. Your accents are garbage," Stanley smirked as he grabbed his bag, knowing it was about time for him to go too, based on the sunset shining through the hatch.

Richie put a hand to his forehead, pretending to be hurt. "Ahh, Sir Stahn de Maahn, you wound me!" He stopped when he saw everyone grabbing their bags. "W-W-Wait, guys! Can't you stay a little longer? I just got here!"

Bill gently moved Richie aside as him and Mike began to head out. "Y-You were the one h-h-who was late. We've been here f-f-for like two h-hours."

"I had some business to take care of with my dear Mrs. Kaspbrak! Can you blame me? I missed her voluptuous bo-"

Eddie threw a pink eraser, smacking Richie straight on the nose. "REALLY, RICH?! BEEP BEEP!" He huffed as he stood up to begin putting away his textbook. "You're so fucking disgusting."

"Heeeey, you love me!" Richie pointed to himself with 2 thumbs.

"Heeeey, not in a million years, asshole." He swept the dirt off his shorts as he pulled off his shower cap. Eddie, Stanley, and Ben were the only losers who wore the caps. Eddie and Stanley wore theirs for protection from the spiders, while Ben wore his just to be nice.

Everyone began to file out the clubhouse, until it was just Richie, who was trying to settle into the hammock, and Eddie, who was searching for the pencil and eraser he had launched at this friends.

"Rich, did you see where my eraser went?" He looked in every corner but couldn't find it.

"I didn't." Richie turned the eraser around in his hand, gripping it tightly and slipping it in his pocket. He wanted as much time as possible with Eddie, as he hadn't been seeing him much at school. They only had one class together and sat on opposite sides of the room. "You want help looking for it?" Richie couldn't help but smirk, knowing Eddie wouldn't leave without his er-

"Nah, I'll get another one one at home. There's a few in my desk."

Damn it. "H-Hey, can you at least stay for a little bit longer?" He squeezed the eraser in his pocket. "I didn't get to hang out with anyone today."

Eddie brushed dirt off his backpack. "Well, if you didn't come so late, then you would've been able to."

Richie tensed up.

...

Richie had been positive Connor was gay. He was the one that first offered to play Richie at Street-Fighter and had been doing so every day for the past two weeks, even using his own money on the machine.

Yesterday evening while heading home from the arcade, he had quietly told Richie, "I enjoy hanging out with you everyday." Connor gently smiled, "Nobody really understands people like us, y'know?"

Richie's breath hitched as the words reverberated in his gay ears; his heart nearly leaping out his throat. Someone in Derry was like him. He wasn't alone.

His eyes widened and a blush settled on his cheeks as he leaned closer, lowering his voice, "P-People like us? Y-Y-You're also…?"

"Also…?" Connor squinted, confused.

The word felt like bile as it began to emerge from his throat, "G-Gay?"

Connor's face went pale as he backed up, nearly tripping from moving too fast. "Oh, God, no. You thought I was…?" He ran his hand through his hair, looking as though he was about to be sick. "Dude, when I said people like us, I meant nerds. Not fucking fairies." He stepped back, further from Richie, with his face twisted in disgust. "Just my luck that my only friend ended up being a queer." Connor turned and walked fast, trying to get away quickly.

_Fuck._

Richie thought it would be okay; just another embarrassing story to cry about at night. But it wasn't okay. It definitely WAS NOT okay.

The boy was Connor Bowers; Henry Bowers' cousin.

_Fuck fuck._

And Connor immediately snitched on Richie.

_F_

_U_

_C_

_K_

After school, he had tried hiding from Henry, to no avail. The second Henry saw him, Richie realized he was looking into the eyes of death. They played a two hour game of cat and mouse around Derry, Richie running for his life as Henry shouted every slur in his slur dictionary.

As soon as he was confident he was safe and wouldn't be followed, he snuck to the clubhouse, arriving just as everyone was leaving.

...

"Detention. I drew a dick in the bathroom. They didn't realize the beauty and grace in my piece of art. It was so detailed, I even added hair!" He exaggerated a sigh, "Everyone's a critic."

Eddie tried to hide a laugh, but it came out as a snort. He peeked at his clunky digital watch. "I guess I can hang out for a little bit. I don't have to be home for, like, another 45 minutes. My mom's getting her monthly waxing." Richie opened his mouth; Eddie's eyes going wide once he had realized his mistake. Luckily, Eddie was faster, able to cut off Richie's incoming trash, "FACE! ON HER FACE! WAXED ON HER FACE! EYEBROWS AND SHIT!"

Richie shrugged innocently, rolling his eyes. "I know, Eds. Only you have those disgusting thoughts. Maybe you need therapy for that Oedipus complex of yours."

"Oh, fuck off, Rich. Don't call me Eds." He took a deep breath, but quickly pinched his nose, "Can we go outside? Bev painted her nails and the stuff smells terrible."

Richie lifted his head and sniffed the air like a dog, his face scrunching when the smell hit him. "Oh, gross. It's gonna give us eye cancer or something."

Eddie paused, his brown eyes widening. "Eye ca- again?" He threw his arms up in exasperation. "Fucking again?"

Richie blinked behind his glasses, genuinely confused, and a little concerned. "Again?"

"Yeah, just…WHATEVER, let's go!"

Richie hopped off the hammock and grabbed his dirt covered bag, hiding a small gentle smile. "Anything for you, Eddie Spaghetti."

.

Eddie kicked a pinecone as they walked down the street, loose gravel crunching under their shoes. "Have you started the homework yet?"

"The child development homework?" Richie made a disgusted face with his tongue out. "I can't fucking believe we're required to take that stupid class."

"It's either this, or two PE classes. I'd rather stick with this one." Eddie gave a little shrug, "Who knows? Maybe one of us will be a dad one day."

"Oh, fucking, god, no." Richie paused for a second; thinking of a joke. "Welllllll, unless I accidentally knock up some girl." He grinned, preparing for a reaction from the smaller boy.

Eddie's face scrunched up; angry, but also confused. "Some girl? You're not gonna get, like, married or something?"

"Fuck no! Being tied down like that?" Richie threw his arms up and gestured to everything around them. "There's a world out there to discover! Food to eat! Girls to fuck! Why would I get stuck with one person and then raise a tiny human? I'd literally rather die."

"I don't know…" Eddie looked tense as he dug deep in his brain. "Maybe getting married would be okay. I-I-I'm not sure. It depends if I meet a really nice girl wh-"

Richie's heart stopped. _g i r l_

"-o likes things I like." Eddie smiled at the thought, before letting out a deep sigh, "I would have to keep my girlfriend a secret so my mo-

Richie forgot how to breathe. _ d_

"-m won't find out. She says I can only date at 25, but thats so fucking dumb." Eddie concentrated and looked up at the sky, as though trying to see the future. "She'll probably only be happy once I have a wife, even thou-"

Richie's brain forgot how to be human. _w i f e_

Eddie's voice was drowned out by a thumping in Richie's ears. He wanted to beg Eddie to stop talking, but couldn't open his mouth.

_Girl._

He gulped.

_Girlfriend_.

He wanted to throw up.

_Wife_.

"Rich?" Eddie waved his hand in front of Richie's face, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Rich, you okay? Did your stick legs finally give out?"

He hadn't realized they had stopped walking, but promptly made eye contact to not make Eddie more concerned. "Y-yea-" He bit the inside of his mouth, trying to distract himself from the concerned, sparkling brown eyes staring straight at him.

Eddie stepped toward Richie and gently placed his hand on his forehead. "Are you sick?"

Richie's eyes widened at the contact between them. He thought of what Pennywise had told him.

_I am sick. I am sick and disgusting. I am sick and disgusting and fucked up_.

"You're bright red, Rich. And really hot."

_Make it stop._

_Make a distraction._

_Make a joke._

Richie blinked and tried to clear his thoughts, screaming at himself that the feelings were one-sided. It was no use being caught up on something impossible. He planted a goofy grin on his face and winked at Eddie. "I'm really hot? I knew you thought I was hot, Eds."

Eddie quickly retracted his hand and scoffed, "Fucking idiot. You're a real fucking idiot." They continued walking side by side with the sun setting behind them.

"Sorry about that. I guess I'm tired and zoned out for a sec. I was imagining the 40 wives I'll have one day and the amazing fortysomes we're gonna have."

Eddie turned to look at Richie, his face grinning and ready for one of their dumb, but fun, fights. "PFT, yeah, right! No woman would wanna be your wife, let alone 40 women!" Eddie jokingly slapped the back of Richie's head.

He gripped the back of his head, making a pained face; pretending to be critically injured. "B-B-But, Eds! You just said I'm hot!"

"I meant the temperature of your fucking forehead, you idiot!"

"Yeah, yeah." He smirked. "I'm going to tell your future wife you called me hot."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll tell your children that their dad's a trashmouth!"

"I said no children!" Richie groaned, "I literally just told you my life plan and you weren't listening. I'm really hurt, Eds."

"I _was_ listening, fuckface. All I'm saying is if you have 40 wives, the probability one will get pregnant is really high. It's bound to happen eventually."

"Then I'll leave those 40 wives and find 40 new ones!"

"You think 80 women will want to be your wife?"

"Absolutely! I'm hot, remember?" Richie turned and gave another exaggerated wink.

Eddie loudly scoffed, "Maybe you should just marry guys instead?" Grinning, he looked for a reaction from Richie. "No chance of pregnancy!" Eddie laughed, proud of the embarrassment on his friend's face, but unaware that the embarrassment was from something much deeper in Richie.

_I'm a joke._

_My feelings are a joke._

_He'd be disgusted if he knew._

Panicking, he harshly snapped back, "I-I wouldn't fuck a guy! That's so fucking gross! Dicks are so fuckin' weird! And I'd never be one of those people."

_I am one of those people._

"Hey, I'm kidding, Rich." Eddie patted Richie on the back, jokingly reassuring him, "I know you're the world's number one ladies man."

Richie faked a smile. "Your mom would be pretty disappointed if I was a queer."

_A queer._

_Dirty._

_That word is dirty._

_That word is me._

Eddie laughed at Richie's comment, although a little uncomfortable hearing a word he had only ever heard from Bowers. "Fucking Trashmouth." He elbowed Richie in the hip, and Richie elbowed back. They began an elbowing fight as they neared the neighborhood.

Eventually, Eddie ended the war, knowing they would both have bruises tomorrow from the elbow fight, but neither of them had any regrets. He took a breath and continued speaking what was on his mind, "But really, this class is worthless, especially for us. You don't want kids, and I definitely should not have kids."

Richie scrunched his eyebrows together, his interest piqued. "Why should you 'not have kids'?"

Eddie was silent and continued staring at their long, stretched out shadows. "I think I'd turn into my mom. Y'know? Waaay too overprotective and strict." He played with his backpack strap. "I don't wanna put a kid through that bullshit…"

"I guess I know how you feel. If I end up like my parents, my kid's life would suuuuuuck." Richie turned his head to look at Eddie, barely seeing his face in the shadow, but still able to make out stressed features on his usually soft face. "Eds.." Eddie looked up and gave a weak smile, pretending it was okay. "You will never, in a million years, be like your mom."

Eddie turned his attention back to the ground, frowning. "Dumbass. You don't know that."

"W-Well, I do! I know you better than anyone else and there is no possible ending where you are anything but a great pers-"

"You won't be like your parents."

Richie blinked, surprised. "Hm?"

"I said, you'll never be like your parents. Whether or not you have a kid, you're a nice person and wouldn't hurt anybody."

"You don't know that."

"I'm positive," Eddie said gently.

They walked silently, seeing Richie's house growing closer.

"Let's agree we'd be shitty dads," Richie smirked, laughing a little.

Eddie smiled in response. "We'd honestly be pretty pathetic. You'd be such a trashmouth around your kids, they'd be cussing by age 2!"

Richie laughed loudly, "Your wife would end up raising the kid because you'd be afraid of the poop!"

"Even though you're right, fuck you!"

"Fuck yooouuuuuuu!"

They looked at each other and broke into laughter as they stopped outside the house. Richie's stomach butterflies returned as he saw the pink and orange sunset painted across Eddie's face, settling over his freckles and soft lips; the colored light sparkling in his beautiful, innocent, doe eyes. He was still giggling from their classic bickering.

Giggling because of him...

Eddie sighed as he looked at Richie's front door, "I still gotta finish the homework from the stupid class, so I'm gonna head home."

"Tomorrow let's get a seat together so I can-," Richie brought his palms up and smooshed his own cheeks together, knowing Eddie had always found it funny, "entertain you, Mr. Spaghetti Kaspbrak."

Eddie immediately broke into laughter, "PFT, no, the teacher hates you. I don't wanna be associated with Trashmouth Tozier."

Richie shook his head. "Naaaah, haven't you heard? I'm her favorite! She has wet dre-"

Covering his ears, Eddie shrieked, "BEEP BEEP RICHIE FUCKING GROSS STOP!"

He triumphantly threw his arms in the air. "I'll never stop! No amount of beeping will stop me!" Grinning, he dug through his backpack for his house key, then unlocked the door, stepping inside. "See ya tomorrow, Spaghetti."

Eddie gave a smile back. "Yeah, see ya, Trashmouth."

Once Richie had closed the door, his hand wandered to his pocket and pulled out the pink eraser he had hid from Eddie. He stared at it for a moment before taking a deep breath and chucking it across the room. His lip quivered as he whispered, "I fucking hate my life."

...

The sunrise emerged over San Francisco bay; cutting through the fog and streaming in the window. It had been chilly and overcast lately, so the warmth felt nice as it fell over Richie.

He stood in the kitchen wearing an old white shirt (with a few holes) and boxers covered in unicorns. Shaking his hips, he quietly sang, making sure not to wake up anyone, "I was born like this, don't even gotta tryyyy." He started cracking eggs into the pan while throwing English muffins in the toaster. "I'm like chardonnay, get better over tiiime." In a different pan, he flipped bacon before promptly using the spatula as a microphone. He pointed at little plastic dog that dispensed soap when his head was pushed. "Heard you say I'm not the baddest bitch, you lied!" His ears perked up when he heard someone coming down the hall, and knew who it was based on the footsteps, "Eddie Spaghetti!" He looked up from the pan to see a cute Eds in his fancy flannel pajamas, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he trudged toward Richie. "How'd you sleep?"

Eddie placed himself behind Richie, wrapping his arms around the taller man and resting his head on his back. "Why are you up before me, cooking eggs, bacon, and toast, all while singing Lizzo?"

Richie gasped and pretended to be offended, "I'm sorry, officer. I didn't realize it was illegal for a man to wake up early, cook eggs, bacon, and toast, and sing songs by the baddest bitch?"

Eddie sighed into Richie's back, mumbling, "Dumbass."

When Richie had to reach the toaster, he realized the smaller man was still attached to him; snoring quietly. "Eds? Are you asleep?"

"Hm? Hnnng, HUH hng. No, no…"

Richie sighed, trying to shake him off and get to the toast. "Babe, you look cute and all when you're tired, but go back to bed. Get some sleep." Successfully wiggling his way out of Eddie's grasp, he took out the toast, but promptly returned to the smaller, tired man. He wrapped himself around Eddie and pulled him in, burying his face in his messy bedhead. "You've been working so hard and you deserve this day off."

"mfffffffmfffwwwwff," Eddie said, muffled.

"I'll take her."

"mwwwwfffffffmmfff."

"I'm literally doing that right now, dumbass." He gave Eddie a squeeze.

"mwwwfffffff."

"Okay, okay, I guess that's reasonable. Go sit and I'll bring it over."

Eddie sluggishly made his way to the dining room and pulled out a chair; immediately flopping down and resting his head on the table, which was decorated with a flowery tablecloth.

Richie picked up his spatula/microphone and finished the final breakfast preparations. He looked across the room at his husband and softly smiled; butterflies fluttering in his tummy. After all these years, seeing Eddie still made him feel like a 16 year old kid with a crush.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Richie brought over a big plate of food, along with three smaller side plates. "Eat your breakfast so you can go back to sleep."

Eddie looked up and was face to face with a stack of breakfast sandwiches. His mouth watered as he saw the eggs, cheese, bacon, and avocado inside the little English muffin sandwiches. "W-What?" He promptly sat up, taking the side plate Richie was handing him. "Rich, what's all this?"

Richie returned to the kitchen, getting out some plastic cups of various colors. "I remembered something from when we were kids." He smiled, opening the art covered fridge. "Remember in high school when we had to take that child development class?"

Eddie placed two sandwiches on his plate. "Yeah, it sucked."

"Do you remember when we were walking home from the clubhouse?"

"I think so. Didn't we just make fun of the class?" Eddie was deeply concentrated on the food, knowing it would be delicious because Richie made it. He took a big bite of his sandwich, but promptly dropped it once he realized the egg hadn't cooled down yet. "Ahh! Ahhhhhhhh! Wich, wader! Get wader!"

Richie looked at his idiot husband, quickly realizing what he had done. He loudly laughed as he filled a cup with water, walking it over to Eddie. "You're so cute when your face is covered with scalding hot egg yolk."

Eddie wiped his face with a napkin in between sips of cold water. "You should've told me it was hot! What if my tongue became permanently burned?"

"Then we'd have a lot of trouble making out." Eddie turned bright red as Richie planted a kiss on his forehead before returning to the fridge. "Do you want any juice? Or just water?"

"Water's fine for now. Thanks, babe."

Richie stood up and bowed at Eddie. "Anything for you, Mr. Spaghetti Tozier."

Eddie responded with an eye roll. "Why couldn't I have fallen in love with a non-idiot?" He grinned, his big eyes looking lovingly at his messy husband who was pouring milk into a baby bottle.

Soft sniffles came from the hallway as a young, curly haired girl appeared.

"Ellie?" Eddie pushed back his chair and rushed over to the small girl who had tears running down her face mixing with snot that dripped out her nose. Gathering her in his arms, he lifted her up. "Upsy daisy!" He gave a little bounce to adjust her and make sure she was secure in his arms. Eddie shot a concerned look to Richie who was hurriedly washing his hands so he could join the two. The girl held on tight and buried her face into Eddie's shirt, leaving a trail of boogers. He tightly held her and rubbed her back, not giving a shit about boogers or germs. "Sweetie, I'm right here," he said softly. "No need for sniffles."

Richie dried his hands on his boxers before rushing to his husband and daughter. "Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?" He stood next to Eddie and pushed back her thick, curly hair that stuck to her wet cheeks. He used his thumb to wipe under her eyes, tears still flowing down her dark skin. "Talk to us, Els."

She looked up at Eddie with her big, twinkling eyes, giving a big snort to clear her nose. "I was scared you got hurt."

Eddie gulped, holding back tears of his own. "I'm right here, Sweets. I think you just had a bad dream. Papa and I are right here; safe and sound."

"Daddy, your tummy got hurt and, and, and-"

Richie smoothed back her hair planting a kiss to her head, trying to ignore the fact she had maybe dreamt about Eddie being skewered to death. "Take a deep breath, Els."

She inhaled loudly and looked up at Eddie, her lip quivering. "There was red everywhere and you were crying an-and Papa was crying and then I woke up and heard you yell. I...I thought it was real."

Eddie looked confused, but quickly realized what she meant. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I was silly and I hurt my tongue while eating breakfast. Papa cooked the eggs too hot."

"Don't blame Papa for this!" Richie huffed, wiping the remaining tears from her face. "C'mon, kiddo. Let's get you some food." A small smile appeared as she nodded quickly. Eddie let her down and she pranced over to the table, making sure to pirouette along the way, showing off her new moves. "Woah! What a big spin!" Richie made a face showing how incredibly stunned he was. "That was the biggest spin I've ever seen!"

Eddie interrupted before she reached the table, "Little ballerina, go and wash your hands before digging in."

The little girl made a grumpy face, but gave in and joined Richie in the kitchen; climbing up a step stool to reach the sink. She turned on the cold water and ran her hands under it. Richie peeked over and gave a small smile. "Els? Did you use soap?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I don't see any bubbles in the sink."

"They popped already."

Richie rolled his eyes. "When did you get so sassy, Little Miss Sassypants?" He stood next to her and picked up the doggy soap dispenser, holding the pump over her small hands. "Here, kiddo. Make sure to scrub them well to get rid of the evil germs; like Daddy taught you."

"Okaaaaay." She covered her hands in the sweet-scented soap and rubbed them together until it made bubbles, just like Eddie had shown her a billion times over the span of 4 years.

Once she was rinsed off, she dried her hands on her pajama shirt before hopping off her stool and dancing toward the table. Eddie helped pull out the heavy chair as she jumped up, looking excitedly at the food in front of her. "Enjoy your meal, Miss Noelle." Eddie planted a kiss atop her curly haired head before placing a sandwich on her plate. "It was prepared by Mr. Richard Tozier, and I hear he's the best chef on Earth." Noelle giggled and gave a big, toothless grin. "I want to make sure it's not too hot. We don't need another burnt tongue." He tried his best to cut it in half with a plastic knife, but failed miserably.

"I can do it, Daddy." Eddie smiled and handed her the utensils, watching as his daughter flawlessly cut her sandwich.

Noelle had been adopted 4 years ago when she was two years old, already quite independent, probably from being moved through the terrible foster care program a few times. At age 4, she was able to tie her shoes and get ready in the morning without help. On the other hand, she needed help potty training longer than a kid was supposed to need help. Fuck America's foster system.

Richie had returned his concentration to making sure the pans were clean so no gunk got stuck. Suddenly, a sharp noise came from the baby monitor that rested on the counter, causing Richie to nearly shit his pants.

Eddie looked up from helping Noelle and grinned, raising his eyebrows at Richie. "Right on time."

"At least she's consistent," Richie joked as he grabbed the bottle; previously filled by him in preparation for this moment. He placed it in the microwave, and watched with deep concentration as it went round and round. Once his guts told him it was the right time, he took out the bottle and dripped a bit of milk on the inside of his wrist, checking the temperature. Perfect. I've become an expert milk microwaver. "I'll be back in a bit; probably holding a small poop machine."

"That's a great way to describe your daughter, Rich."

Already covered in egg yolk, Noelle piped up, "She's also a pee machine!"

Eddie looked up from his food, staring intensely at his daughter. "Noelle Tozier, I don't think Santa would be happy if he heard you call your sister a pee machine."

The small girl took another bite. "But it's truuuue."

He scoffed, but couldn't be mad at her if he tried. "Wow, you really are Little Miss Sassypants."

She giggled as she continued to chew quietly; looking down at her plate. After swallowing, she peeked at Eddie, who noticed and looked back, giving her a soft smile. She took a deep breath, "In my dream, Papa saved you. He helped you get better."

Eddie looked to his daughter, not sure if he should be worried by how similar her dream was to reality. "Well, Papa's good at saving people. Remember when we went to the park and he caught you before you fell off the monkey bars?"

She nodded.

"He protects everybody and will always keep us safe, even me."

Noelle hummed as she took another bite, swinging her legs under the table. "You keep people safe too. You take care of Papa if he's hurt and you kiss my knee if I fall down."

Eddie was sure he had a goofy grin, but didnt care. "Well, love is the best medicine." He stood up and dragged his chair next to Noelle's, then grabbed a napkin to wipe her face. He thought of what Richie had mentioned: the walk home from the clubhouse when they were children.

.

Of course he remembered. It was the first time he had looked at Richie and thought strange thoughts about his friend. The way the sunset fell across Richie as he pulled a face to make Eddie laugh. It had made his heart flutter. He quickly ran home to make sure he wasn't having a heart attack.

.

Noelle's small voice piped up, snapping Eddie out of his trip down memory lane, "You and Papa are the bestest dads ever." She looked up at him. "I'm happy you chose me."

Eddie froze; another memory smacking him in the face.

...

_"Let's agree we'd be shitty dads," Richie smirked, laughing a little._

...

"Daddy?" Eddie realized tears were running down his cheeks as he thought of their dumb childhood banter.

"S-Swe-" He struggled to speak as he pulled in Noelle, holding her tightly; never wanting to let go. "Sweetie. You are the best daughter ever." He gave her an even tighter squeeze. "Papa and I are the luckiest dads on Earth." He slowly pulled back, keeping eye contact and resting one hand on her shoulder, while the other one pushed back her hair. "This is a one time thing but...How about you stay home today so we can play on my day off?"

Noelle gasped. "Yes! I haven't shown you the new ponies Uncle Mike and Bill got for me!" She began practically jumping up and down while sitting, excitement in her eyes. "Then we can watch the Avatar episodes you haven't seen! I wanna show you my waterbending moves!"

Surprisingly, Eddie loved watching children's cartoons. His mother never let him see anything but her complicated soap operas. The second he began watching a show like Steven Universe or Avatar the Last Airbender, he would become obsessed. Noelle would never find out that he was actually ahead of her in Avatar, but he didn't mind watching episodes again if it meant spending time snuggling with his eldest daughter. "We'll do whatever you want, as long as you give Papa and I a big hug."

Noelle toothlessly beamed, looking lovingly at her Daddy. "Okay, I promise!"

.

Richie rushed down the hall, promptly turning into the room where the source of the screaming came from. The room had a pastel yellow theme which Eddie had spent months decorating for the arrival of their second child.

When Noelle was smaller, she had slept in a crib beside their bed because they feared she would somehow drop dead in the middle of the night.

When the Tozier's decided to adopt a second child who was even younger, they were shocked when they read a child should have their own room at 4 months old. The two had assumed it was something like 3 years before such a big move, but they, especially Eddie, trusted the studies and doctors over instinct.

Now, with more confidence, they moved into a bigger apartment with 3 bedrooms so both girls could have their own room and the husbands could finally have some privacy. Of course, they agreed having a baby monitor turned up deafeningly loud in each room was necessary no matter what.

"Hey, Charlie!" Richie placed the bottle on a side table before reaching in the crib to pick up their younger daughter, Charlotte.

She had recently began crawling and both dads sobbed when they saw it for the first time. Then, Charlotte's tiny arms became tired and she dropped face first into the carpet. Richie and Eddie had read that things like that happen and babies have strong heads, but it was still a shock. Richie had whispered with a big grin, "Dumbass babies," before getting elbowed hard by Eddie.

Richie was mediocre at changing diapers. When Noelle became part of their family, she still relied on them so the new dads had to quickly learn how to complete the disgusting task. Eddie became a master rather quickly, surprising both of them.

...

_Richie laughed loudly, "Your wife would end up raising the kid because you'd be afraid of the poop!"_

...

One night, Eddie whispered, "This is really dumb, but I realized my love for Ellie is more powerful than my hate for germs." He expected Richie to at least scoff at the funny sentence, but instead was pulled in tightly and kissed atop his head.

"Told you you were brave."

.

Once Charlotte was squeaky clean, and wrapped in a new diaper, Richie lifted her up and adjusted her so he was cradling her. She was still crying, but it wasn't ear piercing as it previously had been. He grabbed the bottle off the table and carefully sat down in the rocking chair; a stereotypical addition to the room that Richie had insisted on because, "I don't know. They look cool." He rocked her back and forth, holding the bottle to her tiny lips and watching as she brought up her small hands to try and grip the bottle. Richie tried to hold back tears as he watched his tiny daughter.

He was the luckiest man alive.

...

I am queer.

**I am queer.**

That word is me.

**I am more than one word.**

He'd be disgusted if he knew.

**I married the love of my life.**

"I said no children!"

**I am a father of two beautiful daughters**

"Why would I get stuck with one person and then raise a tiny human? I'd literally rather die."

**I wouldn't change a thing.**

I fucking hate being me.

**I am so proud to be Richie Fucking Tozier.**

* * *

My twitter is tegiebear so check that out if you like following losers.

I hope you enjoyed it!


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